Page 25 of Kissing the Debutant
“Wait.” Lillian held up her hand. “I gotta stop you right there, Jack. If this works out—which I highly doubt—I will dance whatever you choreograph for your documentary, but I am a classically trained ballerina. A good one, with a bright future. My routine has to reflect that. I can’t deviate from my training too much. Not even for a scholarship competition.” She sounded rude and full of herself, but she needed Jack to understand she could not compromise on this.
“Of course. I understand, I do, but I think we should combine elements from several other types of dance. This is an opportunity for you to deviate from your tried-and-true routines. Not too much, of course.” He held up his hands to stall her protests. “But just a tiny bit to show potential colleges that you have range. You want to see what your options are to have the real college experience, right? That’s what this competition is about for you.”
“I suppose.” Lillian sighed. “Show me what you’ve got.” She waved him to the dance floor.
“Today I just want to experiment with some moves and see what happens. This should be fun, so loosen up. It’s not rocket science. It’s dancing.”
This was a very bad idea. Lillian took her place beside him as he demonstrated a complicated sequence that involved a few familiar ballet inspired moves but with a faster pace and more casual footwork than she was used to.
“Mind if I put my own spin on that?” She moved to repeat the sequence.
“Go for it.” Jack stepped back to watch her.
Lillian lifted her arms in a graceful arc as she followed his example, keeping the same pace, but bringing a little more elegance to it.
“No, not quite like that, Lil.” Jack frowned.
“Excuse me?” She’d spent her whole life perfecting her skills, and this janitor boy was telling her she got it all wrong? What was she thinking? “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“You just need to loosen up. Shake off some of the rigid form ballet demands.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “And stop telling me to loosen up. I am not uptight.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow as if to say otherwise. “Let’s run through it one more time, and then we’ll move on to something else.”
“Fine.” Lillian gave him the floor. She watched as he leapt and kicked his way through the sequence, lifting his arms and tapping his feet. It looked so cool when he did it, but she wasn’t sure she had those kinds of moves within her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack groaned. “I’m not a monster trying to butcher everything you know. You are a beautiful dancer, Lil. Flawless. But you never look like you’re having any fun. That’s all I’m asking you to do today. Have some fun.”
“You know,” Mia interjected. “Just to break the ice, maybe you two should just have a dance party? You know, throw down some moves and kind of teach each other.”
Jack shot her a look that told her to shut up.
“Or not.” Mia went back to tinkering with her camera.
Lillian frowned as she prepared to give it one more try. She followed his footsteps, leaping and kicking her way across the room. Her footwork wasn’t as accurate as she would have liked, but the pace of the movement was invigorating. It felt good when she landed the last jump.
Jack clapped. “Better, much better. Try it again, but this time let your hips relax. You’re still too stiff.”
“Stiff?” She glared at him. Who was the trained dancer here?
“Oh my gosh, stop trying to kill me with your glare.” Jack’s own irritation began to show. “I know I could never compare to your crazy expensive ballet instructors, but I’m not trying to be a ballet instructor. I’m just an untrained choreographer who thinks he can help you do something cool for a change.”
“You’re right.” Lillian shook her head. “You are untrained, and this is a huge mistake. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”
9
Jack
“Hey, Mom.” Jack pressed a kiss to his mom’s cheek before sliding into the booth at the Main.
Mia flopped onto the seat across from him. “Mrs. B, your son is making me work, and now I need a giant plate of chili cheese fries.”
Jack’s mom pulled a pad out of her apron, straightened the nametag that red “Cara” and eyed them suspiciously. “Aren’t you two supposed to be at the dance studio?”
Jack groaned and dropped his face in his hands.
“We were.” Mia snickered. “But Jack got it into his head that some ballet snob could star in his video for class. She walked out on us after like five minutes.”
